


Flaws

by betsybo



Series: Mix Up [4]
Category: The Young Ones (TV 1982)
Genre: Domestic Bliss, Established Relationship, Fluff, Insecurity, M/M, Romance, Sort Of
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-10-17
Updated: 2019-11-10
Packaged: 2020-12-21 10:55:07
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,416
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21073736
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/betsybo/pseuds/betsybo
Summary: October, 1986The boiler's on the blink, it's getting cold, and the boys formulate a plan.





	1. The Boiler

**Author's Note:**

> So for the first time in a while I have some time to write, and naturally the first thing I write is not a continuation of one of the WIPs I have, but a new fic. I've been missing this series a lot recently and have decided to do a little sequel for 'Keeping' from Vyvyan's POV. I'm not sure yet how long it will be or how frequently I'll update, but I have a vague idea of plot. It will probably be quite a lot fluffier and way less angsty than the other fic, but I did want to see something of what Vyv's thinking. As always I appreciate any kudos or comments on this, but most of all I hope people enjoy it!

October, 1986

‘Guys? House meeting, yeah? Downstairs!’

_‘Piss off, Neil!’_

‘Lads! Meeting downstairs, right now!’

_‘Coming, Mike!’_

Two sets of footsteps sounded on the worn staircase. Rick shivered and hugged himself grumpily as he and Vyvyan entered the kitchen side by side. 

‘Turn the heating on, won’t you; it’s bloody freezing!’ said Vyvyan as they wandered further into the centre of the room.

‘Well noticed, Vyvyan,’ said Mike from where he was leaning against the fridge. ‘That is precisely the reason why I’ve called this meeting.’

Vyvyan glowed with pride.

‘Fact is, the boiler’s on the blink,’ Mike continued. ‘In fact it’s ceased blinking and doing anything else altogether.’

‘Ruddy hell!’ snapped Rick, putting his hands on his hips expectantly. ‘Have you called Billy?’

‘Aha!’ said Mike, pointing at him. ‘Another reason why I called you both down. I can’t get hold of Billy.’

‘Oh, typical!’

Meanwhile, Vyvyan, still pleased that Mike had noticed his astuteness, rearranged his expression into one of detached surprise. Of course, having been the one to secretly use the boiler as a receptacle for one of his louder, messier experiments, he’d had a feeling that that might be where the trouble lay.

‘Well, have you even bothered to look for him?’ said Rick.

Vyvyan glanced at him. Rick was probably remembering that particularly awful winter where they’d had to burn all the furniture, and Vyvyan had had that pregnancy scare. _That_ had been a scrape and a half... in fact, he couldn’t really remember how they’d got out of it.

‘I haven’t spoken to him in over a month,’ Mike was saying. ‘Think he may have gone into hiding. Or someone’s hidden _him_, if you get my drift.’

‘Urgh, how _convenient_!’

‘Heavy,’ said Neil, nodding.

‘Exactly,’ said Mike, and began pacing the floor. ‘And so I looked for a plumber, didn’t I?’

‘Of course you did, Michael,’ said Vyvyan.

‘Well, of course I did.’

‘So?’ Rick pressed. ‘When’s he coming?’

‘That’s the thing, he isn’t. At least for a little while. I asked for a little quote, see, only the quote was not quite as little as I’d hoped. This going to cost us, boys.’

Rick collapsed into one of the rickety dining chairs. ‘Oh, _God_.’

‘Bummer,’ said Neil.

Vyvyan shifted uncomfortably, realising that he might have actually buggered things up this time.

‘All right then, what’s the plan?’ asked Rick, running a hand through his hair in frustration.

Mike shrugged. ‘Well, I don’t know about you boys, but I’ve no interest in having my unmentionables drop off this winter.’

‘No way,’ said Neil, shaking his head.

‘Nope!’ said Vyvyan. ‘And not to mention our bollocks.’

‘Well, _quite_,’ said Mike, as Rick and Neil frowned between the pair of them.

‘I’ll keep trying to track Billy down. If he’s just gone and got himself sectioned again I’ll see what I can do to get him released. If he’s been done over I think it might be best if we make a move.’

‘...Move?’ said Neil, looking lost. ‘What, like, _vacate the premises_?’

‘Exactly, Neil. Think about it; if someone’s psycho enough to murder poor old Billy, then just imagine what kind of a landlord they’d be.’

Mike, Neil and Rick all shuddered. Vyvyan regarded the possibility with interest for a few moments. He might be able to work with it, he thought.

‘Until I know more, we’ll just have to try and get enough dosh together for these repairs,’ said Mike. ‘I’m afraid there’s not much in the kitty, and most of my money has gone into my investments. But if we all chip in we might be able to have central heating before Christmas, at least. I’ll contribute some, naturally. Vyv?’

Vyvyan nodded. ‘Sure, Mike,’ he said.

There was a pause.

‘...I’ve got a bit of money from the dole office,’ proffered Neil.

‘That’s great, Neil,’ replied Mike. ‘But the fact remains that one of us needs to get a job. One of us in particular.’ His gaze settled on Rick, who immediately sat up.

‘_No_,’ Rick hissed up at him.

‘_Yes_, Rick.’

‘Can’t I just work for _you_ again?’

‘Rick, you know I’d let you, but the truth is you’re just not cut out for that line of work.’

‘I’m not cut out for _any_ work!’

‘Now, now. We all have to do our bit.’

‘Well, what about _Neil_?’

‘He already signs on. And anyway, he does all the cooking and cleaning. What we don’t get from him in income we save on time and effort.’

‘Oh wow,’ said Neil. ‘Thanks, Mike.’

‘You’re welcome, Neil. The point is, Rick, you need to start contributing to the household.’

‘I do!’

‘Oh, really?’ said Mike, folding his arms and eyeing him. ‘Like what?’

‘I-I... I always... I mean, I’m, erm – ’

‘Here?’ Vyvyan put in helpfully.

‘Yes! No! I mean I-I...’

Vyvyan watched Rick struggle fondly. He really was a lazy little sod. In all fairness, Rick had tried his hand at a couple of jobs back in September, but they’d both been kidding themselves. As if _Rick_ would ever do well in the service industry. Not that Vyvyan wasn’t rather proud of his boyfriend for describing a complaining customer as a big-nosed bastard. To his face. Still, Mike was right. Rick had to start doing _something_.

‘Exactly,’ said Mike. ‘You need to get a job _now_, and you need to stick to it. For at least three months.’

‘ – But, but I-! _Vyvyan_!’ Rick turned to him desperately; his blue eyes all wide and tear-filled.

‘Come on, Rick,’ said Vyvyan. ‘Don’t be a git.’

As Vyvyan followed a fuming Rick up the stairs, he wondered if this was a good idea. Rick had to work, there was no question, but if he was honest with himself he couldn’t really picture what the boy would end up doing. They had all been a little bit softer on Rick since the drama of the last couple of years. That, and Vyvyan was sleeping with him now.

They returned to their bedroom, where they’d been relaxing together and chatting before the interruption.

‘I don’t believe this!’ snarled Rick, still hugging himself and rubbing at his arms to fend off the chill in the air. He shot a glance at Vyvyan and pouted. ‘And I suppose _you _agree with Mike, don’t you? I bet you _all_ do! Ugh, everyone’s always so horrible to me!’

Vyvyan just beamed at him.

Rick folded his arms impatiently. ‘_Well_, Vyvyan? What do you think about all this?’

Vyvyan shrugged. ‘I think I don’t want either of us freezing our knackers off this Christmas.’

Rick huffed; the angry, pink tinge across his forehead beginning to spread downwards. ‘I just _knew_ you were going to say that!’ he snapped.


	2. The Uniform

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Vyvyan helps Rick get ready for his first day at work.

Even Rick seemed surprised by how well his interview went. The others were certainly impressed that he’d obviously made some kind of effort, with Mike kindly voicing the possibility that Rick had finally matured enough to deal with a career. Or perhaps, as they all suspected, having to wash in cold water for the last two weeks had finally persuaded the little bastard to cooperate. Not that his mood was any better. Whenever the subject of work was brought up he would give a big sigh and start moping, or just stamp his foot and storm off, right up to the morning when Natalie from Dullard’s phoned to tell him he’d got the job.

The day before he was due to start, Rick went into the office to sign some paperwork, and returned with his confidence apparently restored, and a uniform, which was an extremely unflattering shade of red. The jacket and trousers practically swamped Rick’s scrawny frame when he tried it on. Before Vyvyan had any say in it, the idiot had always seemed to end up in clothes at least two sizes too big for him; as though he thought he’d somehow grow into them. After enduring the sight of his boyfriend hopping about with the trousers flapping around his legs as he boasted of his achievements, Vyvyan finally cracked and ended up dragging him upstairs. He made him stand with the trousers on inside out so that he could make some alterations.

‘I could just wear braces, you know,’ said Rick, his eyes nervously following the movements of the needle in Vyvyan’s hand.

‘You’d still look like a bloody clown,’ replied Vyvyan, pinching some of the material between his fingers as he stitched it.

‘They’re not _that_ big!’

‘They’re like flags, Rick. Big, red communist flags.’

Rick sighed. ‘Since when did you sew, anyway?’

‘Had to if I wanted to be a doctor.’

‘A doc- Vyvyan, that’s not a _medical_ needle, is it?’

‘_No_, moron.’

‘Well... as long as it hasn’t been up anyone’s bottom or anything.’

‘Didn’t know you were into those kind of kinks, mate.’

‘Ugh! You _know_ what I mean.’

When Vyvyan finished off his last seam he snapped the thread easily and patted Rick’s arse as he stood. ‘Get them off, then.’

Rick began struggling out of the trousers (not so roomy now as they had been), trying not to fall over. ‘Ow!’ he gasped, and shot Vyvyan a cold glare as he awkwardly yanked the things over and off his feet. ‘Vyvyan, you left a needle in!’

‘It’s not gonna kill you. Here.’ Vyvyan took the trousers from Rick and skated his hands down the new seams, wincing just slightly when he managed to stab himself on the pin he’d forgotten. He pulled it out, forced it through the thick denim collar of his vest, and sucked on his bleeding finger intermittently as he turned the trousers the right way out. ‘Try them now,’ he said, throwing them back at Rick.

‘All right, all right! Cripes, it’s much to cold for all of this!’

When Rick was finally in the trousers, Vyvyan handed him the oversized jacket and swiped up the matching cap off the mattress.

‘Little Post-Boy, eh?’ said Vyvyan, as he perched the hat on Rick’s head.

Rick scowled. ‘I’m not a _postman_,’ he snapped as he pulled the cap down properly.

‘Well, you sort through the mail, don’t you?’

‘Not every day.’

‘Mm, every day you’re in work.’

Vyvyan reached out and pulled the jacket straight (as straight as it would sit), cutting off whatever protest was about to come out of Rick’s mouth. He let his hands wander; slipping under the jacket to the warmth bleeding through the white nylon shirt. He found Rick’s big blue eyes watching him curiously from beneath the cap, and grinned.

‘I thought you didn’t like it?’ said Rick.

‘I don’t know,’ murmured Vyvyan, ‘the hat’s a bit of all right.’

Rick’s breath hitched as Vyvyan’s thumb brushed over a nipple. ‘ – Is it?’

Vyvyan stepped back to survey his work, leaving Rick blinking in confusion. There wasn’t much that could be done about the outfit, but the trousers didn’t make Rick look quite as deranged now.

‘Vyv?’

Vyvyan looked up.

Rick was worrying his bottom lip between his teeth. ‘I’m still don’t see why I have to... I mean I can _do_ the work, of course! I mean, I’ve got the job, haven’t I?’

Vyvyan rolled his eyes. He couldn’t predict how Rick would cope at this new place either, or how the new place would cope with _him_, but there was only one way to find out. ‘Rick, it’s only part time,’ he said.

‘On top of college and everything else!’

‘What do you mean, “everything else”? What else do you do?’ Rick flushed pink, glaring at him. Sensing a tantrum on the rise, Vyvyan backed further away and let himself fall on his back across their mattress. ‘_I _do it, it’s not so bad.’

‘Yes, but you _wanted_ to do it.’

‘If you want money, you have to work. That’s life, baby!’

‘_No_, that’s the capitalist, exploitative mess we’re all in! I hate it!’

Content that his boyfriend would probably shout this one out, Vyvyan folded his arms beneath his head and looked up at the cracked, yellowing ceiling. ‘Still, that’s the way things are, and the plumber has to eat too, doesn’t he?’ he mused. ‘Or boiler man, whatever you call it. Assuming it _is_ a man.’

‘And that’s just another of Thatcher’s _brilliant_ ideas, isn’t it?’

Vyvyan frowned at him. ‘Plumbers?’

‘Everyone’s a slave! No one escapes the jaws of systematic oppression!’

By the time Rick finished his rant it was bedtime. They did not, strictly speaking, having a designated bedtime, although Rick usually tired out at around ten o’clock, like the weedy git he was. Vyvyan didn’t mind it, though. Rick was pretty manageable like this; calmer and pliant and content to stay in company as long as he wasn’t kept awake. And so, on nights where both of them needed to rise early, they went to bed at ten, although Vyvyan would usually look at a comic for a while until he was tired enough for sleep.

Now post-tirade and probably dazed that it hadn’t gotten him what he wanted, Rick was silent and rather wide-eyed as he changed into his pyjamas.

‘Feeling better, girly?’ Vyvyan asked him, already under the covers.

‘...Cold,’ was Rick’s only response as he finished dressing, and he gave a little shiver.

Vyvyan lifted the sheets and Rick climbed in beside him, snuggling close. It was bloody disgusting, really, but Vyvyan pulled him closer, rubbing his sides to warm him. He couldn’t deny that life had improved since the two of them got together. They still bickered, of course, and a fight here and there was always healthy. And he was always going to win them. But he also knew that it was a solid fact that all those scraps had been building up to this. The fights had always been just a little bit sexy, in a sort of chase-me-chase-me, grab-me-grab-me, bat-me-over-the-head sort of way. And, despite Rick’s inherent weakness, he’d always fought back, which Vyvyan respected more than he dared voice for fear of the boy’s ego. As far as he was concerned, they were meant for each other.

‘Oh, _God_!’ he muttered, revolted by his own thoughts.

‘What’s wrong?’ asked Rick sleepily.

Vyvyan kissed his forehead. ‘Nothing,’ he said. ‘Shut up and go to sleep.’

Rick needed to be up and ready early for his first day. He had to try, and that was that.

And yet... Vyvyan decided then and there that he was going to ask Becca for a raise.


End file.
